


A Family Day

by VincentMeoblinn



Series: Musicverse [3]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-16
Updated: 2013-10-16
Packaged: 2018-01-09 15:55:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1147857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VincentMeoblinn/pseuds/VincentMeoblinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oneshot following "Write Your Lyrics On My Heartstring"</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Family Day

 

It was John’s idea, of course. Sherlock was quite content to stay in the flat on such an awfully muggy day, position his chair directly in front of the window AC, and sort through his Mind Palace for a piece he recalled half finishing a few years before. Instead he was being drug to a _public_ swimming pool and park with Mary, John, and Wolfgang. Of course, since none of them owned a pair of swim trunks they first had to stop and pick those up, which in Sherlock’s mind was proof they had no business in a _public_ swimming pool, but John just rolled his eyes when he pointed that out.

Mary was, of course, already perfection itself with her mop of black curls making her look as though she really _were_ Sherlock’s daughter, but he still vetoed ten bathing suits based on both fashion and how much they revealed. John grabbed the first pair of trunks he found in his size and then waited by the cashier with an annoyed look on his face; well, that explained his horrid fashion sense. Sherlock found that Wolfgang’s bathing suit options were sadly limited to patterns of toys, sports teams, and animals. Sherlock chose a blue one with little yellow ducks on it because ducks where the only one of the previously mentioned items that belonged in water. Once his selections for Mary and Wolfgang were complete he ushered them back to John, chose twenty trunks for himself, and vanished into the wardrobe.

Hideous.

Disfiguring.

Plain.

Black? _No._

Gauche.

Flamboyant, make that _too_ flamboyant.

Won’t turn John’s head.

Will turn _everyone’s_ head.

Perfect.

Sherlock slung his purchase over his shoulder, redressed, and headed back out to their little crowd… of one?

“Wolfy had a wet nappy, so Mary took him to the loo to change him,” John explained, taking Sherlock’s swim trunks from him and heading to the register.

Sherlock always experienced a thrill when John did stuff like this for him. It was a simple thing: taking his purchase and paying for it. Still, for Sherlock it was romantic, old fashioned, and ever so _John_. He pressed a kiss to the back of John’s neck as he chatted with the cashier, just to show his approval. John didn’t say anything, but his smile got a bit bigger. Perfection.

Mary and Wolfgang rejoined them so they headed out and caught another cab to the _public_ pool.

It was crowded. It was small. There was barely any grass to be had, and it was _loud_. Sherlock bustled them over to a corner, glared a few people into moving closer together so that he could lay their blanket down, and angrily shoved the umbrella into the dirt. They’d had to buy that, as well. Then he flopped himself down in a strop and waited for John to realize what a terrible idea this was.

No one noticed him sulking. They put the toddler down on the blanket beside him and he crawled to the edge, but stopped there. Then Wolfgang decided he had an unnatural and intense fear of grass, John decided he had an unnatural and intense longing to squeeze himself into a poorly chemically treated pool full of unwashed bodies, and Mary decided she had an unnatural and intense interest in the lifeguard. Sherlock was left sitting on the blanket, trying to console his hysterical son, while John headed for the line at the diving board and Mary joined a crowd of boys ogling the bored, middle aged, busty woman watching everyone bob in the water.

Sherlock looked back and forth between his two wayward family members before finally deciding Wolfgang was to be dealt with first. Then he’d drag Mary away from the _much_ older woman who was in fact looking her way. Then he’d inform John that he wasn’t touching any of them until he showered with _actual_ chlorine.

Sherlock spoke comfortingly to the lad while smearing him with sun cream as John had cautioned him to do. He took up a few strands of grass and brought them to the wailing toddler in the middle of the blanket, but he only shrieked louder and tried to climb his torso. Sherlock tossed them aside and decided the poor thing probably had a point. Who knew what they put on their lawn? Instead he scooped the poor dear up, put him on his hip, and headed out to coral Sherlock’s daughter/Wolfgang’s mother.

Mary was quite contrary about being told to look for someone more her age, but stomped off as told when Sherlock threatened to make a scene worthy of a teenage tantrum. John laughed at him for being ‘a prude’ and splashed his ankles with nasty _public_ pool water. Sherlock stalked off towards some tables with umbrellas overtop and sat himself and Wolfgang down at them. The tot sat on the table and babbled at Sherlock with a serious look on his face as the man nodded and recited words back whenever he heard something that sounded a bit like one. He was still a bit behind verbally, probably due to the lack of time people spent talking to him for the first ten months of his life, so John and Sherlock made sure to speak to him and point out objects whenever possible.

Wolfgang indicated he wanted a double chocolate chip biscuit from a nearby vender and Sherlock decided that if they were to be dragged through all of this, then he and Wolfgang were having some bloody biscuits. They enjoyed their little piece of quiet in the corner of the pool, occasionally interrupted by children wandering up or an adult wanting to coo over how adorable Wolfgang was. Sherlock maintained that Wolfgang got his looks from _him_ , and his coloring from John. Mary apparently found this acceptable and arranged Wolfgang’s blonde curls to resemble Sherlock’s usual style.

A few mother’s had gathered at a nearby table with toddlers and they were singing repetitive and uninspired songs relating to water. Sherlock found their voices grating, but the songs were apparently children’s songs, so he decided he should learn them for Wolfgang’s sake since it would likely inspire the 13 month old to be more vocal. Sherlock memorized them and then started singing them to Wolfgang once the hens clucked off to some other location with their chicks. Wolfgang was thrilled and clapped his hands and tried to coo along to the melody. Sherlock praised his attempts and hoped he wasn’t as tone deaf as his mother.

Eventually John who was dripping wet and grinning like a fool joined Sherlock. He plopped down and gave Sherlock an appraising look.

“Did you put sun cream on?”

“Yes, he’s got sun cream on, I’m not _thick_ you know, quite the opposite in fact,” Sherlock snarled, he’d grown irritable in the unrelenting heat and humidity.

“I meant on yourself, git.”

“No.”

“Are you planning on tanning?”

“No, I am in the shade, aren’t I? Also, I don’t tan, I burn.”

“Yeah, I noticed. You’ve already started.”

To demonstrate his point John touched a raw spot on Sherlock’s lower back that had apparently been exposed to the sun. Sherlock howled.

“You’ve roasted your lower back and part of your bum,” John snickered.

“My arse is covered by…” Sherlock looked over his shoulder to find that a good portion of his bottom was indeed peeking out of the suit and quite pink, “Oh, bloody hell!”

Several parents with children scowled at him, but John raised a hand and quickly apologized to them.

“We’d better get Mary and head home. You’re looking a bit peaky anyway. I’ll put some aloe on your burns.”

“Mary’s over there, _flirting_ with someone twice her age again.”

John sighed at the site of their willowy little charge, “You’re only young once, Sherlock, and that girl is _not_ twice Mary’s age, she doesn’t look eighteen yet.”

“Yes, but the last person that much older than Mary got her pregnant and very nearly ruined her life!” Sherlock snapped.

“I’m fairly certain that _young woman_ won’t be able to impregnate Mary, but I will have a talk with her about safe sex anyway. Can’t be too cautious.”

John rounded Mary up and collected their things before heading back out to flag a cab down for them. Once home John hopped into the shower first, at Sherlock’s insistence, while Mary bathed Wolfgang in the sink. Then John joined Sherlock in their bedroom where Sherlock was already undressed and waiting for his lotion.

“You’re quite the sight, my love,” John teased, and sat on his thighs to smooth aloe gel over Sherlock’s lower back and part of his arse. Then John told him to stay put and returned after a trip to the loo.

Sherlock found himself being gently washed with a cold flannel.

“You’ve really overworked yourself, you know how pale you are right now? Well, the parts of you that _aren’t_ burnt. You’re near sunstroke. Did you drink any water?”

“We had biscuits, but before you start worrying Wolfgang had his sippy the whole time. I’m the only one neglected by your insipid outing.”

“Oh, Sherlock.”

John sighed and fetched him a bottle of spring water with a straw. Sherlock sipped it as John continued gently washing his body. Eventually Sherlock was told to very carefully turn over and John washed the front half of his body, chuckling at the man’s hard on.

“That is _not_ something to be laughed at. It should be admired and then dealt with forthwith,” Sherlock scolded.

“Oh, you want me to deal with it, do you?”

Before Sherlock could snarl a reply John had swallowed him down, fondling his bollocks with the cold flannel. Sherlock hissed at the contrast between warm mouth and cold cloth and wriggled a bit on the bed, letting out another hiss, but this one of pain.

“Best not move,” John teased, tonguing the slit and winking at him.

“Fresh.”

“You love it.”

“Get me off before I lose my temper.”

“Hmmmm, so demanding,” John purred, but dropped his head down and took up a steady rhythm with the perfect amount of suction. The flannel was warming up against Sherlock’s testicles and he was beginning to appreciate the friction of the cloth as John massaged him with it.

Sherlock was soon panting out his release, his cries muffled by his arm as he tried not to move and irritate his sunburn. He relaxed once John had gently released his member from his warm mouth and smiled contentedly up at the ceiling. John threw himself down beside Sherlock, his hand moving fast over his own neglected arousal, and Sherlock reached a lazy saliva-drenched finger down to stroke the tip in a circular motion. John grunted and came hard and with surprising volume.

“Has it been a bit since we did this?” Sherlock asked in surprise.

“New baby, new daughter, new concert in two weeks. Yeah, it’s been a bit,” John panted, snatching up Sherlock’s flannel from his groin and cleaning up his mess.

“Hmmm, then we should fuck later.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Sherlock smiled at the ceiling again, enjoying the feel of John nearby and listening to the various creeks and sighs of their flat. He had the ideal life and he knew it. John was like a puzzle piece that fit perfectly into his soul, completing him and fixing the little bumps and flaws of his personality. Mary was a dear, sweet thing whose only flaws were trusting and loving too easily. Wolfgang was a quiet child with a ready smile and intelligent eyes.

“We should go to the beach next time,” Sherlock decided.

“Yeah, okay,” John muttered, then snored a bit.

Sherlock chuckled to himself and tucked his lover in before gingerly lying back down again. The sex would probably have to wait until tomorrow.


End file.
